Don't Forget Me!
by Croutonic Sarcasm
Summary: WWII is over, and Germany had passed out. Taken care of by America, he murmurs in his sleep, dreaming of a small girl in a green dress. He's wearing black and a hat- who is he? And where is he? And why is the girl so familiar!


**AN: In my headcanon, Italy calls Germany "Doitsu" and Japan "Nihon" because they are pet names. Plus, Germany in Italian is "Germania" so I didn't want to get it confused with Ancient Germania. Chibitalia calls Holy Roman Empire "Shisei Roma" because "Shisei Roma" sounds a lot cuter than that mouthful in German that it should be or the English "Holy Roman Empire." I mean, doesn't Shisei Roma sound like a name anyhow? XD Also, "Italien" is "Italy" in German, "Pressen" is Prussia (the double s should be an es-zett but I don't have the ability to wrie the B thing right now) and "Osten" is "East," referring to Prussia. I hope you understand and have fun reading!**

"Ve~ Will Doitsu be okay, Nihon?" The young Italian boy asked of the Japanese nation, tears of worry springing from his eyes to pour over lightly tanned cheeks. Japan contemplated this, even while noting that Italy used the nicknames he had given Japan and Germany during World War II. He had thought them too cute to resist using and had latched onto them- Japan, of course, had no reason to disallow Italy from doing such a thing. It was a high honor to disregard his own language and use another for nicknames, and he had been very pleased.

"I do not know, Italia." Japan answered softly, eyes downcast as he looked to the German man confined to a bed, barely breathing with a terrible fever. He was murmuring and was quite disturbed by whatever he was dreaming, shifting uneasily and looking very displeased. It was almost an expression of longing upon Germany's face, and it made Japan feel as though he was intruding upon a private matter, even though he had every right to visit a sickened friend.

The trio were watched over by America, who was uncharacteristically quiet and calm, arms crossed as he waited for the former Axis to finish their visit. The war had just ended and they were not trusted in the same room; though Germany had been the real power and thought, Japan was no fool and might yet be a threat, but Italy was just kind of pathetic, seeing him hold onto the bed so tightly and cry for his friend.

After a short while more, Japan managed to get Italy to stand on his own, though he kept a hand upon Italy's arm and guided him out of the room, head bowing towards America in respect. America didn't acknowledge it with respect of his own- but it was to be expected. Japan had fought most bitterly in the war- and lost bitterly because of it. America was not likely to forgive him for it, nor was Japan to trust America for a long while. He had been very hurt by those bombs. At the mere thought, Japan's arm and thigh began to burn, as if reminding him, and he left the room more swiftly with Italy, passing by America's watchful gaze.

America waited til they were gone before sitting down in the chair next to Germany's bed, staring at the former Axis leader with something akin to disgust and pity. He hated what Germany had become, such a monster just to be stronger. It was horrible. But he had fallen so far after the first world war that it was kind of understandable. But still... America shivered at the thought of the experiments he knew had gone on, the thinness of the people in the camps when they were freed. It was just... he couldn't think of a word strong enough to hold all of that horror and terror in one little package.

He leaned back into the uncomfortable wooden chair, and watched Germany fidget and squirm in his sleep, though he didn't move too much before he would wince and sink back into slumber. Or maybe he was passed out. America wasn't sure. Once word had gone out that his leader had committed suicide and effectively gave up, the Allies had gone on a search for Germany. They questioned Russia- Germany had last been seen attempting to go there, after all. Russia said he had beaten Germany and some of his men badly, but they had escaped and Russia had felt no need to follow.

Eventually, they had found Germany near the border of his own nation by a pond, passed out and unable to be woken up. There was a small wound on his head, terrifyingly similar to a gunshot wound, though not nearly as bad- the sympathy pain of a nation. England had merely harrumphed at it, while America had been slightly scared, though he refused to show it. If Germany's leader had killed himself like that, and then Germany was out cold with a similar wound, did that mean the leader affected the nation that much? It was a scary thought. Of course, some of America's presidents had been assassinated, but, the pain hadn't knocked America out. Maybe because Germany's boss had known the damage it would do to his nation, so it made it worse? Or maybe it was also that he had lost the war by the action. America didn't know, but they had simply brought the nation to a hospital, America claiming the rights of finder to place him in an American hospital.

America leaned on the arm of the chair, staring at the man that had once been a boy, and the boy that had once been his best friend. He smiled softly, then brushed some hair from Germany's face, though he was concerned that Germany was so hot. "I wonder what you dream of..."

There was a gentle shaking on his shoulder, slowly waking him from his slumber. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with small hands, black cape falling from his front to lay at his sides properly. His large hat had fallen off- the gold trim was almost indistinguishable from the black from the grime and dirt of war. He put it back on his head, then looked for the person who had woken him, seeing a small girl in a green dress and a white apron smiling at him.

_Italien...? No, no, this is a girl..._

"Shisei Roma~!" She chirped happily, almost squeeing. "You're awake!" Her curl bobbed in the light, contrasting with the white handkerchief in her hair. The Holy Roman Empire rolled his shoulders back, feeling them pop and sighing with relief. He picked up his hat and swept his hair back as it should be, though some hairs sprung from the slicked back hairstyle. He frowned, almost pouting, but put the hat back on his head as he listened to the girl titter on about this and that. He stood up slowly, feeling sore and hurting all over. War was really vicious.

_War... the war was over, why am I dressed so oddly..?_

He adjusted his cravat, the white material torn and almost brown from dirt. It was really gross. He was bothered by this and frowned, his naturally downturned personality making this expression seem natural. He glanced back to the girl

_Italien for sure, that curl, but why is he- she- he- she in a dress...?_

and tried to get her attention by waving his arms slightly, not really wanting to force her to stop talking but needing to speak to her. She paused, and smiled brightly, eyes closing from the pure joy in her expression and held out a basket. "Shisei Roma, I got you some food! I know you don't like pasta, which is silly, everybody likes pasta, but I got you some... some wurst things and some sour-stuff." Holy Roman Empire smiled, the simple motion difficult and painful, as well as just feeling unnatural.

"Danke..." He murmured his thanks as he took the basket, then looked inside

_He always did make me something special_

and the smile got wider, more meaningful. There was some wurst, true to the others words, and a small homemade jar of sauerkraut. It was sure to be good though, the Italian was a good cook. "I appreciate this."

Italy made a sound of joy, clapping her hands together and cheerfully spinning in a circle. "I have to go now, Austria is sure to be mad that I'm gone!" She began to run off, waving over her shoulder and smiling, curl bobbing with her steps.

_The curl. It makes him blush and go quiet- same side of his head, it's not Romano- that must be Feliciano._

He waved good-bye, then looked around. He was the Holy Roman Empire

_Deutschland_

and with God at his side, there was no war he could not win!

_But I lost. My Führer lost- died- suicide. I died- new order, Axis, World War_

Holy Roman Empire shook his head. Something was being weird. His head hurt and he didn't like it. He took the food and marched to his men, readying for another assault, feeling ready to take on anything. He had the blessing of Italy and her food, and God was on his side. He was set to fight.

Holy Roman Empire was losing the war

_March men! Away from Russia! Go go go!_

and he was dying, his head hurt and his stomach was churning. He had to get away, he had to survive this for Italy

_For Italien!_

and he had to survive to get her hand in marriage

_But he said no, he told me- he told me no_

but he'd do it somehow. He would live through the war

_Falling apart, get up men, get up, we have to fight for the Third Reich_

he'd have to. He stumbled through the woods, hearing the men running after him with hounds and horses, ready to tear him apart

_Russia is coming, Dummkopf! Do you know what that means? It means we will be tortured til we cannot speak or move and til life is worse than death, so go, I hear him! He's coming!_

but he kept running and the pursuit slowed til it was finally unheard. He was safe for now. He was torn up, his uniform a mess

_So unclean! I need to fix it, but no needles, no way to fix it, I'll be fine, it'll be worth it for Italien_

but he didn't care. It only mattered that he survived to see Italy again. He stumbled and tripped over a large plant that he didn't see, his vision beginning to play tricks on himself. He ended up on his knees before a pool of water,

_Oh, mein Gott, Wasser, there's water, I'm so thirsty_

staring into the reflection. He stared

_Who is this?_

and bit his lip. He was such a mess. His uniform was torn beyond belief, showing patches of his skin underneath and there were painful wounds all over.

_Something isn't right with this pond._

He pulled the hat from his head, hair falling once the only object keeping it in place was removed to frame his face. He reached to touch the water, then paused, hand hovering over it.

_Wh-what's this? My reflection... something is odd about it._

The reflection didn't show himself. It showed somebody else. Some tall man with blond hair and eyes like his, but the man was big and strong, in a green uniform with black edging, white piping on the edge of the black. A torn glove covered a hand that was reaching to the water, pulling back just like Holy Roman Empire, confused.

_Who is this boy? Why is he there? He's so little- so hurt. He must be an ancient, else I would know him._

He stared, meeting the man's eyes

_Eyes just like mine, exactly like mine, why is he so similar?_

and Holy Roman Empire put his hand above the man's in the water, his own hand dwarfed by the sheer size of the other. His heart fell a little- he was so small...

_So delicate and fragile... Was I ever like that?_

He looked back to the man's face, examining it. Maybe he knew him- he was just

_so similar, there must be family, and his eyes are just like mine and Osten's, but, they're my color, exactly my color_

eyes, the same and he couldn't understand why they were so exactly the same, separated by a pond and yet... something

_was weird here, there has to be an explanation. I don't think that I'm this kid but I have to be_

related, definitely. Something closer than brothers or even than a father and a son, maybe they were

_twins, yes, that has to be it. We're twins, somehow... but.. that's impossible, else he would be around when I am_

but even that made no sense, because there would be another boy of the same size with Holy Roman Empire. There was just no way it could be what he was thinking

_It can't be what I'm thinking, it's impossible..._

After all, he was the Holy Roman Empire

_I'm Deutschland. I don't have family except for Germania and Preussen_

and he only had family in the Kingdom of Prussia and Germania. Wait.

_Our family... is the same?_

Holy Roman Empire and the man were taken aback, staring with wider eyes and confusion. It seemed as though the man had the same family. That means...

_That we are_

the same person?

The man in the water took in a deep breath, surprised and slightly scared. Holy Roman Empire heard something behind himself, something was there. He looked. The hounds had found him! He turned back to the water to see the man looking over his shoulder and returning his gaze to the water in the same motion, panic alighting on their features. Holy Roman Empire drew back, pointing over the man's shoulder, warning him of some man behind him with a weapon, the man in the water doing the same, pointing. Neither looked over their shoulders to the threat, but leapt into the pool at the same moment hands meeting.

They stared at each other for a moment, floating together in the same pool and breathing heavily.

_We're the same_ person, aren't we?"

They hesitated, then nodded slowly.

_I'm the Holy Roman Empire._

"I'm Deutschland."

"_We are Germany."_

They meet their gazes, then swallowed hard. Immediately, they began choking on the water, something grabbing each of their necks and pulling them away from each other.

"Don't forget me!" Holy Roman Empire cried before he surfaced, gasping. "Don't-" His words were cut off by a sharp thwack to the back of the head. The enemy had won.

Germany began to stir in his bed more, brow furrowing and mouth downturning. "Nein, I won't... I won't forget..." He made grasping motions, but his push to wakefulness was inevitable.

America sat up, interested. Forget what, hm? Something super interesting to show the Allies that America could find out things through espionage?

After a few more moments of rustling, Germany's arms fell back to his sides and he sighed, fully awake. Something was slipping away like water in his palms, something very important. It was something about... himself? ...Italy? Both? The more he tried to remember, the less he knew for sure. The only thing that he could truly recall was love for a small brunette with a curl in her- his hair. Why did he think "her" first? He frowned, trying to relax to recall the dream as he sat up holding his head. That is, until America spoke.

"Hey! Germany, you're awake, awesome, so, you know you lost the war and Italy was crying and I bombed Japan and Japan is angry and there's going to be a meeting so you need to be able to move to represent Germany." He smiled like a child given a puppy, hand on the edge of the bed and excited.

Germany stared for a moment, trying to make sense of it, then shook his head to clear it. "Ja. I'll be ready soon." He answered, understanding the last bit of the gibber America spoke about. _I just wonder at what I forgot._


End file.
